This Is Madness (No, This Is Breakfast)
by BittahWizard
Summary: An Episode 5 rewrite where the Hargreeves boys finally have a sit down. Or, the one where Klaus gets waffles, Ben watches Diego eat eggs, Luther sits awkwardly in a booth, and Five finally drinks a cup of fucking coffee. One shot.


"Is that a new tattoo?" Five asks, shoulders tense.

Klaus shrugs on a shirt, a forced smirk on his face. He glances down at his left bicep. "You know, I don't even remember getting it. Crazy night."

Five's scrutinizing gaze slides back down the darkened hallway into the bathroom, tracking the bloodied footsteps to the tub and back. "I'll bet." He refocuses on his brother. "New jewelry?"

Klaus stretches, long arms trying to touch the sky. With a twist and a crack of his back, he looks down at the pair of scuffed dog tags nestled above his heart. He pats his chest, the metal tinkling softly. "Oh, this? I'm just holding onto it for a friend."

Unquenchable temper rising rapidly, Five takes a step towards Klaus. "I know those symptoms. Like someone's shoved a fork in your ear and scrambled your brains. The twitching. The _itch_. You've got the look."

The look.

_Oh, yes, he's seen that look. Every fucking day in the mirror._

Well, if he actually _owned_ a mirror.

"You went back in time."

Klaus turns sharply, facing Five. "Your friends? The Bear and the Bitch? When they couldn't find you, they took me instead."

Five smirks. "And you stole their briefcase?"

"I thought there might be some money in it."

"Of course you did." Five gives his brother a considering look. "How long were you gone?"

Letting out a slow breath, Klaus takes a seat on his bed, bare feet coming to rest atop his crossed legs. "About a year," he exhales, voice and eyes dead.

Five begins to pace. This is wonderful, fantastic, _superb_. Now he has a way to get back, a way to fix his mistakes. He turns to Klaus. "Where'd you put the briefcase?"

A careless shrug. "I broke it."

Eyes flashing, Five clenches his fists. "You _what?_"

Klaus shoots up from his mattress. "I slammed that thing against the pavement until it burst into flames." He backs away, taking another deep breath. "I mean—yeah, I broke it."

Five sees the look on his face and dismisses it. "Great! Just great! You happen to have the _one_ thing I need to travel back in time, and you manage to _break it_. Nice going, shithead." He feels that rage, all too familiar, burn down his spine. "I guess I have to do everything myself." Then Five grabs a pencil and notepad from Klaus' desk and stalks out of the room.

"Pleasant as always, little bro!" Klaus shouts hoarsely after him. "I'll give you a pass this time because that second round of puberty sounds like it's a bitch!"

Klaus flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He shuts his eyes, rolling onto his side and curling his legs into his chest.

"Where were you?"

Klaus huffs and rolls the other way. "Go away, Ben."

Ben's materializes in front of him once again. "No. I heard what Five said, and honestly, you don't look very good right now."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Maybe it's the crack in his voice, maybe it's the blood still stained under his fingernails, maybe it's just that Ben has always been able to read Klaus better than anybody—maybe it's all of those things, maybe it's none of them—but whatever it is, Ben shuts up.

Ben's eyes turn contemplative. "You know what you need?"

"What?" Klaus sighs.

"Waffles."

Klaus sniffs and raises a curious eyebrow. "Waffles?"

Ben nods solemnly.

Klaus hums.

"Diego is here. He could drive us." Before Klaus can even reply, Ben's already jumping off the bed and racing down the hall.

A ghost of a smiles flits over Klaus' face. "Waffles sound good." And then he throws on a cargo vest and slinks after Ben.

* * *

"Hey where're you going?"

"Nope," Diego grits out as he tries to walk past Klaus. "I'm not giving you another ride."

"Hey, c'mon, you know I can't drive." Klaus looks over his shoulder. "We're getting waffles."

Diego starts to argue. "You ca—"

Klaus just pats him on the chest gently. "Okay, great. Let me just go and get my things." Then he disappears.

Clenching his jaw, Diego looks at the empty spot where his brother has just vanished from. "Fuck! Sixth sense? More like the ability to know when my car has a fresh tank of gas," he mutters to himself.

Diego stalks out of the mansion and unlocks his car. He sits behind the driver's seat and turns on the ignition—he sits there, debating over whether he should just leave or not.

"Fuck!" he shouts, slamming a hand against the steering wheel.

He leaves the car in park.

Ben just grins from the backseat.

* * *

"I think I should probably go," Diego says, already inching out of the sticky vinyl booth Klaus had shoved him into.

Klaus reaches across the table and grabs ahold of his arm. Instinctively alarmed when he can't pull away, Diego pulls out a knife and stabs it into the table next to Klaus' hand.

Klaus doesn't even bat an eyelash. "Please, Diego—just…just stay." His eyes flick to Ben. Diego follows his glance, brow wrinkling. "Have some waffles with me."

"Or some eggs!" Ben interjects enthusiastically.

Klaus huffs. "Or some eggs."

Diego's irritated face softens, noting the purple bruises under his brother's eyes. "I—"

"Can I get y'all started with anything to drink? Maybe coffee?" a waitress named Tammy asks, not even looking up from her little notebook.

All three brothers turn to stare at her.

Tammy glances up and stops writing when she spots the giant Bowie knife stuck in the table.

She swallows and taps her pencil twice. "I'll just give y'all a minute to look at the menu." And then she scurries back into the kitchen.

Diego scowls and sheathes his knife. Klaus finally lets go of his arm with a Cheshire grin.

"Fine," Diego growls. "I'll stay."

Klaus smacks his palm loudly against the table. "Wonderful! I love family get-togethers. The last one was so _dreary_."

The corner of Diego's mouth curls up. "That was Father's funeral."

Klaus opens a menu. "Hmmm?"

"It was three days ago."

Klaus turns a page, peering over the laminated edge at Diego's reluctant smile. "Did you say something?"

Rubbing a hand down his face, Diego lets out a soft chuckle. "Nothing. Never mind."

He opens his own menu, Ben reading eagerly over his shoulder.

* * *

"Put. Her. _Down_," Five spits out, rifle perched on his shoulder and aimed directly at Luther's face.

Dangling Dolores out the window, Luther calmly says, "No. I'm not just going to let you go out and kill people." He tightens his grip on the mannequin's neck. "I know she's important to you. Put the gun down. Don't make me do this."

Five regrips the gun, palms starting to sweat.

"It's her or the gun," Luther says. "You decide."

Five lowers the rifle, the life he and Dolores lived flashing before his tired eyes.

He drops the gun when Luther drops Dolores.

By the time Five has teleported to the window, now cradling Dolores in his arms, Luther has crossed the room and retrieved the fallen weapon.

"I'm sorry, Five. But I can't just let you kill innocent people."

Heart pounding, Five just hugs Dolores tighter. He can't think anymore. Doesn't want to.

A soft chime sounds.

Luther digs his cell phone out of his pocket and swipes open the text. "Huh," he murmurs. "Diego says he and Klaus are having breakfast and Rosa's Diner." His eyes scan the message. "Klaus wants to know if any of you fuckers want to come and have some coffee and waffles," he reads out.

The whirring hum of one of Five's jumps forces Luther to look up from his phone.

He looks around the empty room.

Luther's massive shoulders slump. "I guess I'll just drive myself, then."

* * *

Vanya rushes over when the knocking on her door becomes more and more insistent. She opens it as she's pulling on her scarf. Her sister Allison is standing on the other side.

Vanya blinks in surprise. "Hey."

"Morning," Allison sings.

Vanya steps back to let her through and looks curiously at her sister's full hands.

Allison takes a good look at Vanya and says, "Nice scarf—wait, are you wearing makeup?"

Blushing slightly, Vanya goes to look through her butter container. "Just a little," she calls over her shoulder.

"Well you look great," Allison replies. She holds up a bag full of crullers and a tray full of chai lattes. "Breakfast?"

Vanya glances between her sister's peace offering and the jacket in her hand. "Actually, I have a—"

"It's just," Allison bites her lip and looks down. "Luther texted me and said all of the boys are going out for breakfast."

Vanya sucks in a shocked gasp and lifts an incredulous brow.

Allison laughs. "Yeah, I know. It's going to be a shit show. I just thought since they were having guy time, we could…you know, let me apologize properly about taking out my marital problems on you."

And Vanya? Vanya doesn't have anything to say in response. This is the closest thing to begging she's ever heard come out of Allison's mouth.

Allison doesn't beg. Not ever.

Vanya relaxes her grip on her coat. "I guess…I can move my thing around."

Beaming, Allison sits down at the table. "Thank you, Vanya. I just, I want to do this right." She pulls out a doughnut. "I thought maybe this would be a good start."

Vanya pauses, missing medication and breakfast dates fading from her thoughts. She takes a seat across from her sister and fiddles with her fuzzy scarf.

Taking a doughnut, Vanya smiles shyly down at the pastry. "It's perfect."

* * *

"I still don't get why you had to bring the doll," Diego mutters around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

Klaus drizzles more syrup onto his tall stack of waffles. "Love is love, Diego."

Luther chuffs from his perch on the outside of the booth and takes a sip of his chocolate milk.

Klaus told him he couldn't sit next to Diego, that the seat was already taken.

Technically it is. Ben is still crouched there, watching Diego eat his breakfast with Gollum-like intensity.

"You should be lucky," Five answers, arm wrapped around Dolores' shoulder and nose inhaling the hot steam from his mug of dark roast. "If it wasn't for her and this cup of coffee, I'd be punching you in the throat by now."

He takes a sip.

He sighs, content.

The apocalypse can wait until after breakfast.


End file.
